A Presidential Option for the Poor?

Sister Begoña Plágaro was highly skeptical of left-leaning
Venezuelan President Hugo Chávez. "I grew up in Spain under
Franco," she says. "I know how dangerous it can be to
mix political leadership with military leadership."

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Sister Begoña, a religious sister of the Society of the Sacred
Heart, has worked since 1991 in a barrio called El Estanque, one
of the thousands of desperately poor "squatter
neighborhoods" that surround Venezuelas capital city.
Though uncertain about Chávez, Sister Begoña decided to take
her chances with the poor. "They were the first to really
understand the Chávez project," she says. If supporting
Chávez was a mistake, she would rather err with the poor than
against them.

Far from being alone, Sister Begoña is one of thousands of
religious workers at the base in Venezuela who say the Chávez
government is honoring the gospel mandate of a "preferential
option for the poor" claimed by Catholic bishops at a 1968
meeting in Medellín, Colombia.

"With all its errors, Chávezs government is still
trying to put into practice the words of the bishops," says
Father Mario Grippo, a member of Charles de Foucaulds order
of the Little Brothers of Jesus who has worked on a farming
cooperative in the Venezuelan Andes for 28 years. "The
bishops themselves are [now] denying what they wrote. But the
people see that the government is moving toward the poor."

More Venezuelans live in poverty than dont. Between 1978
and 1985, the GDP plummeted while the economic elite fled the
country with their capital. Two attempts under former President
Carlos Andres Perez to defibrillate the economy with neoliberal
models failed spectacularly. More than 400 people were killed in
nationwide riots. The stage was set for the rise of Hugo Chávez
to the presidency.

Chávez was born in 1954 in a barrio of Sabaneta, a small town
in the Andean lowlands on the Guanare River. His parents were
schoolteachers. He graduated from the Venezuelan Academy of
Military Sciences with masters degrees in military science
and engineering in 1975, followed by studies in political
science. He gained national recognition in 1992 in leading a
failed coup against the corrupt government of Carlos Andres
Perez. In Chávez 90 seconds on national television, he
told his soldiers to lay down their weapons and took full
responsibility for the coup. But, he said, their objectives had
not been achieved "por ahora" ("for now").
The next morning graffiti on buildings and bridges all over
Venezuela simply said "por ahora." Chávez
popular movement had begun.

After two years in prison, Chávez was pardoned by
then-President Rafael Caldera and emerged as a politician,
organizing a new party called the Movement for the Fifth
Republic, based on the principles of the 19th century South
American liberator Simon Bolivar. He was elected president in
1998 and again in 2000, by the largest majority in four decades.
He ran on an anti-corruption platform, a promise to break up the
old political junta, and a national economic plan based on a
"preferential option for the poor."

For three days in mid-April 2002, an anti-Chávez movement
comprised of oil executives, business leaders, and
Venezuelas labor confederation led a temporarily successful
coup against the Chávez administration after he fired the top
management of the nationalized oil company. About 200,000 people
opposed to the firing marched on the company headquarters and
then to the presidential palace, where they encountered a
pro-government demonstration. Shots rang out. An estimated 34
people were killed in the street demonstrations, most in the
pro-Chávez crowd.

Bush administration officials celebrated the "change of
government" in Caracas. While Chávez was taken to an
undisclosed military prison, the civil-military junta led by
Pedro Carmona, head of Venezuelas largest business
organization, showed its true stripes. "Our first official
act is the dissolution of the constitution," shouted Daniel
Romero, slated to be the attorney general, on national
television. The junta proceeded to dismantle the supreme court
and the national assembly and ban the word "Bolivarian"
from official discourse.

"It was a terrible night," recalls Sister Begoña.
"People were weeping in the street."

Catholic Cardinal Ignacio Velasco, since deceased, not only
allowed his residence to be a meeting place for the coup
planners, but also proudly signed the decree that temporarily
swept away the countrys democratic institutions.

By the next morning, the people of Venezuela filled the
streets and surrounded the presidential palace. "When the
opposition revoked the constitution, the people took it
personally," recalls Pablo Urquiaga, a pastor of a base
Christian community in a barrio called Caricuao.
"Thats our constitution! they said.
Chávez is our president!"

By Sunday morning, with the help of the palace honor guard who
would not allow an extra-constitutional change of power, Chávez
was returned to office. A military coup to install a dictator had
been stopped by hundreds of thousands of people taking to the
streets, and by the rebellion of enlisted soldiers who defended
the countrys constitution and ignored orders to kill
civilians.

It soon became public that Bush administration officials had
knowledge of the coup well beforehand. Using the same conduit
Ronald Reagan used to fund the contras in Nicaragua in the
1980sthe "National Endowment for
Democracy"the administration had funneled money to the
Venezuelan opposition. According to the London newspaper The
Guardian, Eliott Abramswho lied to Congress in 1986 and
is now a Bush appointee at the National Security
Councilgave the go-ahead to the coup leaders, and Otto
Reich, a former U.S. ambassador to Venezuela, met numerous times
with Carmona, the head of the short-lived junta.

THE PARTICIPATION IN the coup by Cardinal Velasco and other
church leaders has had a tremendous negative effect on many
Venezuelans. "We do not understand," says a member of a
base Christian community in the Caricuao barrio, "how the
church of Jesus Christ could identify with those who oppose the
opening of schools and universities to the poor and health care
for the poor."

"I see two churches," says William, a sports trainer
for the youth of a barrio called Nuevo Horizonte, in the hills
high above Caracas. "One is the higher church, the
institution involved in politics and very distanced from the
problems of poor people. The other is the church of the people,
the church of the sisters, the church of the priests who are here
with us working in the community."

A lay-led base Christian community formed in the barrio in the
mid-1980s, when several women started a small health clinic and
community center called Casa de Salud. They met every day for
Bible study and to visit the sick, and later conducted a survey
of the health and educational needs of the community. The women
formed a committee of 10 women who each were responsible for 10
families. "These women visited the families three times each
week to make sure that the children were attending school,"
says Norma, a Casa de Salud founder. "Then the women
organized home schooling to help the children catch up on the
curriculum and to make sure they were getting one decent meal
each dayeither at home or at school."

In addition, 50 elderly people meet each day for a hot meal
and conversation at the community center, which also offers a
discount pharmacy and dental clinic and an extensive sports,
fitness, and mental health program. Volunteers distribute beans,
rice, corn, cereal, and flour to 300 people each week.

"But the center of all this activity," says Norma,
"has always been our faith." Their faith is strong and
moves mountainsspecifically the hillside the community has
re-terraced to add new buildings to Casa de Salud. But it is not
a faith that members of the church hierarchy often see.
"Once," recalls Norma, "the bishop, in his black
cassock and scarlet, came with his driver in his Mercedes-Benz to
our barrio. He said it was the most horrible place and he hated
coming here. I said to myself, this is my life, my
realitycan it really be so terrible for him?"

"Chávez came to power saying that the base must be
raised up," says William. "He isnt afraid to
speak the truth about the contradictions of the church. The
people feel that we are being taken into account, that we have
dignity."

"But its not what Chávez says that matters,"
responds Norma. "It is what the people say."

Has talk of fighting poverty translated into less poor people?
The statistics are hotly disputed, and more time is needed to
determine if Chávez anti-poverty strategy is succeeding.
Gregory Wilpert, a pro-Chávez analyst in Venezuela, asserts that
under Plan Bolivar 2000, thousands of schools, hospitals,
clinics, homes, churches, and parks have been repaired. He also
cites medical treatment for 2 million people, 2 million children
vaccinated, the opening of affordable markets, and improved trash
collection.

Between 2001 and 2003, banks gave out about $50 million worth
of micro-credit. Most of the micro-credit was given to rural,
urban, and small-business cooperatives, the building blocks of
the governments economic plan. Venezuela had only about 800
cooperatives when Chávez came to power; now there are an
estimated 40,000. Chávez is building his long-term economic
strategy around three pillars of poverty reduction: land
redistribution, education, and an environment conducive to
small-scale private enterprise.

"This is a moderated revolution," says Rafael Amaro,
a teacher and community organizer in Bariquisimeto. "Chávez
is not a Cubanist and not a communist. He is a
micro-capitalist who is using petroleum as the initial basis for
internal social development. Chávezs economic plan
emphasizes small businesses, small farms, cooperatives, and food
self-sufficiency through rural development. This is a capitalist
country with a capitalist economy, but with a foundation of
economic justice."

As with any populist politician, a concern is that Chávez
will forget the source of his political authority. The base
Christian perspective on this political process is crucial to its
success. "People are constantly asking me if I am with
Chávez, if Im a chavista," says Sister
Begoña. "No, I answer, Chávez is with
us."

People in the Caricuao barrio embody the gospel admonition to
be "wise as serpents and gentle as doves."
"Chávez provides hope and leadership beyond
Venezuela," says one woman. "We have to make sure
though that he doesnt become an idol or become too filled
with power. The gospel must always give light to this process.
And the people must hold Chávez accountable."

Chávez does not have a reputation for building bridges. His
charismatic style generates a "cult of personality."
Hes got a huge chip on his shoulder about the United States
and George W. Busharguably justified, but also mixed with
spitefulness. He doesnt appear to be grooming strong
leaders within his own political party. He has centralized
decision-making and administration. Some say this is because
Chávez is circumventing the corrupt and inefficient government
infrastructure that he inherited. Others say that he is afraid to
build a broader-based party of political leaders who sometimes
might disagree with him.

"Chávez, for all his support among Venezuelas
poor, must not let himself become bigger than the people he
claims to represent," says John Walsh of the Washington
Office on Latin America. Chávez success at the
pollswhich includes the 1998 elections, the 1999 approval
of the constitution, and the 2000 electionsshows that he
knows how to play, and win, at democratic politics.

"But thats the easy part of democracy,"
continues Walsh. "The open question is whether he knows how
to lose. Chávez has helped unleash an unprecedented sense of
empowerment among Venezuelas poor. The opposition, for its
part, often appears not to comprehend that the clock cannot be
turned back; the people are wide awake to their rights and to
their power. But Chávez too must understand that the people for
whom he claims to speak must have the last word on whether he
stays in power or not."

Rose Marie Berger is an associate editor of Sojourners.
She traveled to Venezuela in January 2004.